


Dog of the military

by maekami (squorsh)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Angry Kissing, Biting, Buildup, Choking, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Deepthroating, Desk Sex, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fingering, Foreplay, Hair-pulling, Hate Sex, Hickeys, Making Out, Multiple Orgasms, Restraints, Rough Sex, Scratching, Semi-Public Sex, Spanking, Squirting, because again what fic of mine doesnt have at least four thousand words of buildup, because what fic of mine doesnt have a creampie, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-01-15 19:46:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18505828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squorsh/pseuds/maekami
Summary: You are a private tasked with escorting a recently released smooth talking war criminal to Central Command, but it seems he may have other things in mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i rushed this in one day because one of my best pals is incredibly horny for kimblee and i wanted to surprise them. love ya buddy

Some job this was. You had scarcely just joined the military and you were already assigned to such an important task – and in Central, no less. Why they told _you_ of all people to be in charge of this was anyone’s guess. Optimism said that you were just that well regarded as a new soldier, but realism said that it was because you were disposable.

Your posture was stiff and straight, arms folded tightly behind your back. Footsteps concise and measure, your overall demeanor was brimming with professionalism. This was why the higher ups back in South City liked you so much; you knew how to act, and you knew how to act _well_. It came in handy with a job such as this.

Though, you would be lying if you said your attention wasn’t focused elsewhere. You were nervous about this; it was a big deal, to say the least, and you had so many questions that weren’t yours to ask. Apparently, an imprisoned alchemist who had participated in the war had been released without warning, and the military of all people needed him. You could only guess that even the worst of people could come in handy sometimes.

Your boots lightly squeaked against the hardwood floor of the building as you turned and made a sharp right down the corresponding hallway, making sure your chest was puffed out and your head was held high. To be honest, you weren’t sure just _how_ bad this guy was. You joined the force later in life and had only been in for about a year or so, give or take; researching people wasn’t really under your jurisdiction. A guard stood before a door further down the hall, indicating where you needed to stop walking.

You turned on heel once more to face him, clicking them together as you stood at attention and curtly remarked, “I’m the escort assigned to Mr. Kimblee; identification is prepared if need be.” You stated your name and began to reach for your badge, but the guard reached for the door handle before you could finish and pushed it open. “Sir,” he called inside, “your escort’s here to take you to Central Command.”

There was no verbal indication of the guard being acknowledged, but the clack of footsteps followed, leisurely stepping towards the doorway. A man walked out, taller than you and far more well-dressed. His entire ensemble was white from his hat all the way down to his shoes, the only splash of color being that of a purple tie that matched the violet hue to his eyes. If there was one thing he didn’t radiate, it was “war criminal.” You supposed that was a good thing.

He turned to look at you, giving you a brief once-over before his lips curled upward into a grin and he reached for his hat. Taking it off and giving you a nod, he commented with a voice much deeper than you expected, “Truth be told, I was expecting some big intimidating bodyguard and not a lovely young woman such as yourself.”

Unsure of how to respond, and figuring it wasn’t your place to be as informal as he, you gestured with an arm towards the direction you came from, “We have a car waiting outside, sir; please come with me.”

“So formal,” he replied passively, placing his hat back on and walking forward without a word. Your legs moved forward, walking alongside him and matching his footsteps as best you could. This wasn’t as bad as you had envisioned; truth be told, you were expecting some haggard old psychopath behind that door – not such a gentlemanly, well dressed man who smelled faintly of cheap cologne. Or maybe it was expensive. It all smelled cheap to you.

“Central isn’t far, sir; I’m only here for caution’s sake,” you explained to clear up the silence. “I’m sure you understand. I’ll be driving you to and from, as well as taking you where you need to go and where you are instructed to go.”

The man chuckled under his breath, and even though you didn’t look over at him, you could almost feel his side-eyed glance at you from under the brim of his hat. “I didn’t even say anything and you’re already spouting exposition that I already know about. Relax; they already told me what I need to do.”

As you turned the corner, you found that you lacked a response, but it seemed Kimblee wasn’t done talking, anyway. “I _do_ have to make a stop before we reach Central Command, however… I’ll need you to take me to the library. I have some reading to do before I get there.”

“The National Library was burned down, sir,” you explained, turning your head to look at him and forcing yourself to not start at the sight of him still looking at you. “Someone came in one night and burned the entire thing to the ground; nothing remains of it.”

His lips pursed, looking back ahead and causing you to let out a breath, not realizing you had been holding it. “How unfortunate. Well, I suppose a standard library will do fine. Not my first choice, but oh well.”

As he raised a hand to scratch at his cheek, you took note that there were markings on his palm – tattoos, most likely. It was a triangle within a circle, unreadable bits of text wrapping around the latter. Kimblee caught your eye again, and with a quiet, startled inhale, you looked back ahead and gestured for him to follow as you stepped around the corner back towards the entryway.

Not a word was exchanged between the two of you as you stepped to the double doors leading to the exit, your hand reaching out to grab one of the handles and open it for your companion. He tipped his hat at you in thanks, stepping outside and waiting for you to follow, the door shutting somewhat loudly behind you. The heels of his dress shoes clacked against the concrete stairs leading down from the building, walking up to the car parked in front. Before you could open the door for him, he let himself in, crossing one leg over the other and folding his arms. Glancing up at you, somewhat impatiently, his brows raised, and you quickly stepped around the car to move into the driver’s seat.

As you adjusted your rearview mirror, you caught his eye again, your hand jolting a bit at the sight for the second time that afternoon. Just as you moved to look away, Kimblee spoke, “Your eyes… you’re a rookie, aren’t you?”

After a few seconds of lingering eye contact and silence, you moved to fasten your seatbelt and straighten your posture, placing the car’s key in the ignition. “Yes, sir; I’ve been working under the military for eighteen months now.” Pushing down on the gas, your car began to putter down the road. After a few seconds of hesitation, you glanced back at the mirror, but to your relief, the man was looking out of the window rather than at you.

“To answer the question you don’t want to ask,” he remarked, “I know because your eyes don’t hold any remorse in them. No lingering guilt, no sign of death, no unwilling coldness brought on by something you had no say in.” When you looked into the mirror again, his elbow was rested against the base of the window, cheek held in his palm. “You weren’t in Ishval.”

… You supposed that _he_ of all people would know that. Still, it wasn’t your place to converse so informally, and instead you replied concisely, “No, sir. I was not.”

“I’ve been wondering why they would send a rookie to escort me,” he mused, moreso to himself than to you. “You’re fearful, but not in a knowing way. You’re uncertain; you don’t know what kind of person I am – I can tell that no matter how much you act like every other blank soldier. Tell me, Private, do you even know who I am?”

In some ways, you wished you had requested a car with a glass screen between the front and back seats. This man was so casual, but that casualty held an underlying tone that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand upward. “I know your name and that you were a state alchemist during the war, sir,” you replied, swallowing a bit hard and flicking your turn signal to take a right. “My job to escort you was requested of me without warning; I had no time to research you.”

You jolted in your seat when Kimblee let out a raucous laugh, but when you glanced at him, he was still looking out the window, teeth peeking out from under his lips as he grinned. “So, they send someone who isn’t valuable in case I go rogue? That’s hilarious.” Even as your lips pursed at such a quip, he continued to speak, gazing out the window at the buildings and people moving by. “Let’s just say I had a little too much fun during the war and they saw it fit to lock me up for a few years. Feels good to be out of that jail cell…”

“Sir,” you said after clearing your throat, feeling tense as his grin lingered at the sound when he glanced back at you in the mirror, “I promise I will escort you to the best of my ability, though I assume it’s futile to request you please not kill or harm me while you’re under my watch.”

Kimblee chuckled under his breath, you forcing yourself to keep your eyes on the road. “Don’t worry about it; I’m not about to get thrown back into prison if I can help it… and I can.” He stayed quiet after that, but you heard a soft clacking noise coming from the backseat, like hard candy clicking against teeth. After a quick glance in the mirror, you saw his jaw shift, so you assumed that it was the case.

The only sounds after that were your pulse thrumming in your ears and the car’s engine puttering as you moved down the road. A trickle of sweat made its way down the side of your head, a long exhale escaping your nose. You were going to be fine. He was a former prisoner; of _course_ he would be intimidating and a little unnerving. He was polite, gentlemanly, well dressed, and, as much as the thought made your stomach churn, sort of handsome. Even the coldness to his eyes added to the look in a way; it was a unique appearance all its own.

The car came to a stop on the side of the road, the engine turning silent as you turned off the ignition. After stepping around the car, you opened Kimblee’s door to let him out, and briefly, you checked the seat of the car. No bag of hard candy was in sight, and nothing was crinkling when he stood up to indicate if it was in his pocket. Weird.

“Watch your step, sir,” you spoke, walking ahead of him and extending a hand, which he took to step up and off of the curb. His palm was warm from when it had been resting upon his cheek on the ride over, a chuckle escaping him as he retracted it and placed it in his coat pocket. “Really, I’m not an old man who needs help crossing the street.” Just as your cheeks started to burn with embarrassment, his free hand reached up to lift his hat much as he had before, and he added, “but thanks, miss.”

Kimblee stepped ahead of you, you quickly closing the car door and briskly stepping forward to keep up with him until you stood by his side once more. Walking ahead, you opened the door to the library, a hush falling over the two of you as soon as you stepped inside. You turned to him, asking quietly, “What exactly is it that you need to research, sir? I can assure you have a private place to study.”

“None of your concern,” he hummed, stepping further into the library without you and disappearing behind a bookshelf. Suppressing a frown, you stepped up to the front desk and requested a side room be reserved. The clerk handed you a key, you taking it in your palm and huffing through your nose once you turned and walked further inside.

The library was quiet, as most libraries are, without many people inside. You supposed most citizens were working at this hour, though a few patrons lingered. A man stood by the biography shelf with his nose in a book, a woman and child loitered at the children’s section as the little one picked out a book, and an elderly gentleman rested in one of the plush chairs further inside. This was all well and good, but you had lost sight of Kimblee and had no idea where he could be. It wasn’t as if you could call out for him.

With no indication of where he could have gone, you moved towards the historical section first. The shelves were empty of people standing before them, as were the ones next to it and the ones after that. Your fists were clenched and your jaw tight, suddenly more irritated than you should be. This smooth-talking bastard had given you the slip; what if he left while you were deep inside the library? It would be on your head, and being demoted would be the least of your worries. You could see it in the papers now, you pondered as you stopped before one of the aisles, teeth gritted as you tried to decide which way to go. _“Southern rookie lets war criminal loose on the streets.”_ You’d never be able to live something like this down –

“Looking for someone?”

His voice had been uncomfortably close to your ear, low and subdued, and yet you felt anything but comfort when you let out a yelp and stumbled where you stood, dropping the room key to the floor and bumping into one of the shelves, two books falling loose onto the floor. Head whipping around, you found Kimblee standing there, a handful of books under his arm as he blinked nonchalantly down at you. Lips curling into a smile accompanied by a mischievous glint in his eyes, he asked, “Oh, did I scare you?”

Realizing your brows were creased and your mouth was curled into an irritable frown, you caught yourself and masked both of them with a blank expression, taking in a breath and leaning down to pick up the books that had fallen over. “No sir; you simply startled me. I wasn’t sure of where you had gone.” When you stood to place the books back, you inhaled quietly and looked back down at the floor in every direction, “I dropped a key, do you see it any – “

At the sound of a light jingle, your gaze moved up, jumping when you were met with an outstretched hand inches from your face, the keyring dangling off of Kimblee’s index finger. Lips pursed, as it was the only visible emotion you could allow yourself to show in front of him, you extended your hand to take it a bit more swiftly than intended. “We have a room reserved for you to have a quiet place to study, sir. I’d appreciate it if you let me know how long it takes so I can contact Central Command and let them know we’ll be late.”

You turned around, apprehensive about showing your back to the man again, but you found you were too irritated to care at that point. The sound of footsteps behind you was the only indication that he was following you up until the point you reached the left wing of the library where a room lay in wait. Unclenching your fist, you opened your palm and held the key tighter than need be as you shoved it in the lock and turned it, allowing the door to swing open. Inside was what seemed to be a private study room containing a table and a few chairs, as well as one wall being full of extra books. Kimblee walked past you, speaking casually, “Oh, this shouldn’t take more than an hour or so.”

An hour? You didn’t know if you could spend another _minute_ with this man, but you only forced a smile and replied, “Of course, sir. I’ll contact the command center and be right back.” As you moved to close the door, a hand shot out and caught it, startling you as it was pushed back open. Kimblee gestured for you to come inside, and reluctantly, you did.

“I don’t think the higher ups care that much,” he mused as he sat his books on the table and pulled one of the chairs out to sit, “so don’t worry about it.”

You weren’t worried, not really, but moreso irritated at having to stand for an hour keeping watch over the man. Closing the door behind you, you pocketed the key and stood at attention, hands folded behind your back, as you would likely continue to do so for the rest of your stay here. By the end of the day due to this mixed with the stress, you would absolutely be taking the longest, hottest soak of your life.

Kimblee rested his chin in a hand as the other cracked open a book, finger tracing down the table of contents until he found what he apparently needed, flipping to the required page. “Sir,” you spoke up, “If I may ask, what exactly is it that you’re researching?”

“Oh, a little bit of everything,” he replied absentmindedly, turning the page and seemingly finding what he was looking for. “I was in that prison cell for a long time; I’d like to keep up to date on things, especially if my newfound job is anything to go by. Geography, current affairs… things like that.”

“I’m not sure what your job could be, with your history,” you mused, then straightened up, “Apologies; I’m speaking out of line.”

However, the man only snickered under his breath and listed his head to the side to glance at you. “Oh, please; you’re acting like I’m going to report you to the Fuhrer himself if you speak out of line. I can tell you want to talk, so talk.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir,” you replied, straightening your posture and clicking your heels together so your footing was proper as well. “It’s not under my jurisdiction to speak freely. I would only be distracting you from your work even if that were not the case. Please, feel free to continue.”

“The irritation in the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife,” he deadpanned, moving so his cheek rested in his palm once more. “So stop playing dumb. I know I pissed you off and that you don’t want this job… but you’re scared to admit it because you don’t want to get in trouble… especially not with me.”

He flashed a grin at you, head dipping so you could barely see his glare from beneath the brim of his hat, and you found yourself gulping as your head moved in every direction all at once. You were in a room alone with him, and he was a criminal, a murderer – if you upset him, he could kill you without batting an eye. Or maybe he was just screwing with your head, and you were worrying over nothing. Whatever the case, your head was starting to ache, and it somehow only made your jaw clench even tighter. “I choose not to comment on that, sir. I won’t distract you from your work anymore,” you said, tersely, praying that he would drop it.

But this was Kimblee you were talking about, and as you had learned in the short amount of time you had spent with him that afternoon, he loved to talk. “You’ve got a lot of spunk for someone locked in a room with a convicted criminal. You’re either stupid or brave, and I’m not betting on the latter.” Looking back to his book, he casually turned the page again and read over a paragraph whilst continuing, “Maybe it’s best they sent a rookie to watch me instead of a big bad bodyguard. Someone like that would have probably snapped by now, and that’s no fun at all.”

His casual tone was only pissing you off more, heartbeat in your ears despite your attempts to quell its quickening pace. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t speak unless absolutely necessary – “

“Then why are you talking right now?” the man interrupted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye and lowering his hand onto the book’s page. “It’s not as if you have anything important to say, and yet you still keep opening your mouth.”

Your lips pressed into a firm line, holding your hands so tightly behind your back you felt them shake. His brows raised as you inhaled, but you shut your mouth again, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

Kimblee lifted the cover of the book and let it fall shut, the sound surprisingly loud in the room as he pushed away from the table, and suddenly dread was in your chest all over again. As he stood, you fought the urge to glare at him, instead keeping your expression blank and asking, “Do you need another book, sir?”

“No,” he replied, hands moving to the collar of his coat and tugging it up a bit to adjust it. “I need you to tell me what’s on your mind. Otherwise I’ll never be able to read in peace, and as I said, these books are _very_ important for me to look over before we go to the command center.”

“Pardon me sir, but I don’t see how me speaking out of line will help matters. I can stand on the other side of the door to leave you in peace for your reading if that will help,” you replied, voice devoid of all emotion save for the last word, in which your tone hitched when Kimblee took a step forward. You gulped quietly, not moving a muscle.

“Come on,” he egged on, holding out a hand while the other still rested leisurely in his pocket. “I can _feel_ the energy coming off of you; you’re mad. You’re annoyed, you don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be around me, and you _definitely_ don’t want to be in this room for an hour standing here.” He kept walking towards you at a casual, but intimidating pace, you forcing yourself you swallow your fear and stay as still as humanly possible, the only part of your body moving being your shaking hands clenched tightly behind your back.

Kimblee was before you, your head having to tilt upward to look at him. His own head was tilted a bit, studying you quietly and sliding his other hand into the opposite pocket. “Well then?” he asked, voice firmer than before. “Say it. Say it and get it over with so we can both get on with our lives.”

Why did he care so much? All you had to do was stand outside and the two of you would be done with it. “Sir, I really don’t see a reason why this is necessary – “

“Cut it with that goody two shoes act,” he interrupted, eyes growing narrow. “I want to see you angry. I want you to let it all out and tell me just how irritated you are.” One of his hands lifted, and you flinched slightly as it moved past your head only to brace against the wall behind you. “Say it, rookie. I was never known to be a patient man, and prison didn’t change that one bit.”

As he glared down at you, instead of feeling scared, as you should have been, all you could feel was a growing irritation that was expanding with every passing second of him staring at you.

When you didn’t say anything, his lips cracked into a small, toothy grin that looked more crazed than happy, one brow raising. “You really are an idiot.” Leaning forward, he loomed over you, and you felt yourself taking a step back without realizing it, heel hitting the wall and back soon to follow. Your brows found themselves creasing, which only seemed to fuel him further, “God, I can almost smell the rage coming off of you; come on. Talk to me. Nothing’s going to happen if we keep going back and forth like this – “

“First off!” you abruptly snapped, causing the man to visibly startle, grin melting and eyes widening as his brows raised in surprise. “You are far too smug for your own good, and it’s pissing me off! You just got out of prison and you think you’re the hottest thing around; no – you’re a criminal, and being released early won’t change that!

“Secondly, your little quips aren’t going to do anything but annoy me and make this job harder! And that shit you pulled earlier with scaring me; there was no reason for it, and you knew what you were doing!” you barked, brows tightly knit and jaw just as tense. Your arms had fallen to your sides, but your fists were as clenched as ever. “You’re playing with me and I’m tired of it!”

You suddenly remembered you were in a library, face burning with embarrassment as you swallowed hard and glared angrily up at him, but your irritation was mingled with confusion at his broad grin and wide eyes. “Yes! That’s what I’m looking for… though, do you _really_ have a right to be so upset? It’s your fault for letting me go off on my own, really.”

He was doing this on purpose at this point, but you weren’t thinking clearly, anger causing your stomach to twist and turn as you harshly whispered, “ _You_ are the one who wandered off when you obviously have to be under supervision! You’re like a child let loose in a store without any sense of direction! And look at you now; you’re trying to egg me on and get me fired! I have worked _way_ too hard for this job for someone like _you_ – “ Against your better judgement, you raised a hand and jabbed your index finger into his chest, continuing, “ – to ruin this for me! You’re just an egotistical lower-class criminal who thinks he can talk his way into anything!”

A sharp gasp escaped you when his free hand flew out of his pocket and towards you, suddenly gripping your chin and pressing into your cheeks with his fingers. Your head was jutted upward even further as he leaned down, a thud moving over your chest as fear suddenly overtook the anger. Kimblee’s eyelids were lowered, one brow cocked as he tilted his head to study you. His shitty cologne was near overwhelming with his hand and face so close to yours, the strands of hair poking out from under his hat tickling your skin. “Lower-class criminal? You really _are_ an idiot rookie.” His breath was uncomfortably hot against your nose, causing it to scrunch up in response, especially at the smell of what was obviously _way_ too much breath spray.

Even still, your frown turned into a grimace, taking hold of his tie and gripping it tightly as you glared at him angrily. “So _what_ if I’m a rookie? That doesn’t make me a dumbass who can’t see when someone’s trying so hard to be hot shit when in reality, they’re just like any other pathetic _twerp_ who was thrown in a jail cell! _Fuck_ y – “

A yelp escaped you when a pair of lips hit your own, Kimblee gripping your chin tighter and grinning smugly against your mouth. Against all odds, this only fueled your anger even more, your other hand raising so both were gripping the front of his coat tightly. Brows knit, you moved your lips to say something, but he only cut you off with a harder kiss, pushing your head back and causing it to knock against the wood of the wall behind you.

Swallowing hard, you found your lips angrily moving against his, as if to assert dominance and make it clear that he would _not_ get the best of you like this, but a rumbling chuckle only rose in Kimblee’s throat and vibrated against your lips as he kissed you harder, then harder, another muffled yelp escaping you when his tongue breached your lips and slid into your mouth.

It was getting hot, the sounds of your kissing and labored, shaking breaths the only noise in the otherwise quiet room. Your hands gripped his coat tighter and unintentionally pulled him closer to you, effectively making him press you against the wall with his hand next to your head. It was getting hard to breathe, and when you opened your eyes, the man was staring right at you, eyes narrow. His violet irises seemed to penetrate the darkness his shadow left over you, the rest of him bathed in a warm yellow sunlight coming from the window on the opposite wall of the room.

You forced the kiss to stop, taking in a deep, shaking breath that you desperately needed as your hands moves to his shoulders. As your fingers dug into the skin and you glared up at him, he only licked his lips painfully slowly and let out a warm breath, speaking in a low tone that caused an involuntary shudder move down your spine, “That’s it… give me your anger; let me feel it…”

The hand that was holding your chin slid down, fingers popping the button of your uniform’s collar so they could slide over your neck, surprisingly cold against skin. He moved his head downward, tugging the fabric down and breathing against it, “Every inch of it…”

His lips hit the skin of your neck just as the hand that was previously bracing the wall gripped the back of your head, teeth lightly digging into flesh as he sucked and kissed at it roughly and caused you to gasp. One of your hands moved to hold onto the back of his own head, causing his hat to go askew and nearly fall off in the process. At a particularly hard bite near your jugular, you found yourself letting out a sound that wasn’t as angry as you had wished it were, Kimblee’s response being to drag his tongue over the freshly made mark and comment, “You want us to get kicked out…?”

All at once, reality hit you, even if the throb pulsating between your legs was trying to push it aside. You had just kissed him, he was sucking your neck, and even if you were in a locked room, on the other side were people that could catch you at any moment. You were an escort letting your ward – a war criminal, no less – hold you and kiss you so very roughly and you would absolutely lose your job over this.

“H-hey,” you gasped, but even when you did so, he showed so signs of stopping what he was doing, fingers undoing another button of your uniform as you continued, “we can’t be… d-doing this; someone will – “

The alchemist’s response was to bite down roughly on your neck, your eyes bulging as a free hand slapped over your mouth just as you moaned into it, pulse thrumming against his lips and tongue. Another button was undone, then another, Kimblee’s hand slipping inside and swiftly undoing the buttons of your undershirt beneath before you felt his fingers against your skin, tracing over your collar. Your knees were growing weak, forcing yourself to stay upright and hold onto the back of his head for some form of purchase.

You felt the man’s lips trace over your neck to your jawline, then back to your mouth once your hand had raised for him, kissing you roughly yet again. He pulled away just enough so you could still feel his lips against your own, the man chuckling lowly and quipping, “So ready and willing for me…”

Before you could tell him to shut the hell up, he was kissing you again, tongue in your mouth and fingers gripping the back of your head possessively. An involuntary moan leaked into his mouth, his hand sliding further down from your collar and slipping under your bra, causing your eyes to widen as he gave your breast a sudden, hard squeeze. Hands fumbling for something to hold, they gripped each side of Kimblee’s jaw, skin smooth against your fingertips, as if freshly shaven. You found that your hands were trembling, though this time, they were not of anger, but something else entirely.

His hand slipped away from your chest to undo more buttons on your uniform and shirt, the skin almost cold without his hand there to hold it. Your neck ached wonderfully from his bites, a hot breath escaping you when he bit down and sucked on your lower lip just enough for you to savor it before shoving his tongue in your mouth again and running his hand down your head, nails scraping over the back of your neck and causing your back to arch.

Needing to breathe, you broke the kiss again to do so, though he seemed to have no ability to stop, for his mouth moved back down to your neck to run his tongue over the other side before clamping down and roughly sucking the skin. You swallowed down a moan as your uniform was finally unbuttoned, undershirt slightly damp with sweat at that point. Kimblee slid his hand back inside, gripping your breast and wrapping his fingers around your nipple, twisting it and causing you to gasp so abruptly you nearly lost your footing where you stood.

Your breathing was fast and erratic, hands bracing the wall behind you as this man, this stranger, this horrible, _awful_ person hungrily bit and sucked at your neck and gripped your chest as if it was his and his alone. Just the sound of his kisses and breaths in the empty room was enough to drive you mad, your will to be angry fading with every bite and lick and tug at your neck and nipple.

Kimblee pulled away much to your dismay, your gaze flitting up at him as he ran his tongue over his lips and looked down at you hungrily, as if pondering his options of what to do to you next. Eventually, he smirked, reaching a hand up to tug the rest of your buttons off, breaking no less than two in the process and leaving one of your breasts exposed. “I’ve got myself a regular little military whore; you’re practically begging for me to touch you again…”

The husky undertone to his voice due to keeping his volume low was negating any want to be angry, though you did look to the side with irritation as the blush on your face spread down your neck and over the hickeys Kimblee had made there. You looked back over with a gasp as you felt your nipple being tugged shortly thereafter, your breath catching suddenly when his fingers tiptoed down your stomach to the hem of your pants.

You scarcely had time to get a good look at the smug grin on his face before his body was pressed up against yours again and both hands wrapped around your waist, tugging you away from the wall and causing you to stumble. All of a sudden, you were spun around so your back was to him, his hand shoving you downward. A yelp escaped you as you braced yourself with your hands only to be met with the surface of a table, his books resting to your left.

The hem of your pants was taken hold of and tugged down your legs, your eyes growing wide as you covered your mouth with a hand and let out a quiet noise into your palm as it all registered. This was happening; he was going to –

While he was still clothed, you felt his pelvis push up against your rear and rub on it, a hand trailing over your covered back. Kimblee hummed, as if in thought, and a clap was suddenly heard behind you, starting you, then followed by a flash of light. When it faded, your shirts were gone, supposedly transformed into some other fabric that he whisked aside. As it fell to the floor behind the two of you, your breaths grew shaking against your hand as his own dragged its nails slowly down your back, leaving a tingle in their wake.

“I’m going to make sure everyone who sees you knows that you’re mine after this,” he murmured, letting out a warm exhale of his own as he nudged his pelvis against you again, nudging you further onto the desk. You couldn’t see the man’s face, but you could envision it perfectly: narrowed eyes, a slightly open mouth, a tent in his pants that was surely beginning to ache. Never in your life had you ever envisioned doing anything like this –

Kimblee, it seemed, had a knack for interrupting your thoughts, for before you could finish your present one, he pulled your underwear down and suddenly his hands were spreading your legs. The sound of a zipper being pulled down was heard, your pulse skipping a beat in your ears as your underwear was tugged to the side.

Something warm and phallic rested over your rear while his hand slid over your vulva, the man leaning over you and making a “tsk” sound as his fingers ran over your clit, already slick with moisture. “So wet already, so willing and ready for me…” A finger nudged at your entrance before slipping inside with ease and earning Kimblee a muffled, subdued moan, “I wonder just how much you can take, rookie…”

A second finger slid inside of you and the two began to push in and out just as he grinded against your rear, free hand gripping one side of it and squeezing it tightly. Moisture slipped down his fingers as he fucked you with them, going a little deeper with every thrust and sliding in and out at a quickening pace.

Your face was hot and your core was throbbing, the weight of the situation slamming down on you as Kimblee extracted his fingers, moved back, and suddenly the shaft of his cock was rubbing up against your soaked folds, head pressing against your underwear as he rubbed it back and forth with a warm exhale. Your juices slid over its surface, hot and aching for your pussy to be filled and for him to quit teasing you.

Kimblee ran his nails over your back, pulling back just enough to teasingly nudge the head against you before continuing his motions, chuckling at the whimper you gave. “Tell me what you want, rookie… or else we’ll be here all damn afternoon. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Bent over a desk, so close to relief, never getting what you want – “ His fingernails dug a bit deeper as they scraped them down your side, humming at your moan, “ – no matter how much you whimper and beg…”

“Just do it already,” you gasped as quietly as you could manage, looking over your shoulder as best you could, which wasn’t much. Kimblee leaned over you, your head barely able to look up enough to face him. He was grinning, a glint to his eye.

“Do what? You have to be more specific.”

Your breath caught briefly in your throat, muttering somewhat sheepishly, “Fuck… m-me…”

He hummed again, tilting his head, and finally gave a shrug and pulled back as he remarked, “Well, since you asked so nicely…”

You gasped as his hand clamped over your mouth, something simultaneously pushing inside of you and making you cry out against his tattooed palm. Kimblee pushed up inside you to his base and held it there for a long second before pulling back and shoving back inside at a quicker pace than you expected.

Your walls were tight and hot around his cock as he fucked you, filling you snugly and slipping in and out of you easily. The fingers of his hand over your mouth slipped over your lips and parted them, a muffled groan escaping you as you obediently sucked them. Your hips rutted against his dick, eager for more and causing him to exhale hotly behind you as he gripped your rear for purchase.

With every thrust, you were pushed against the desk, your body at his mercy. The air smelt of sex, the table creaking under your weight and causing you to wonder what would happen if someone walked in on you and saw you like this, and while idea scared you, it also somewhat intrigued you, the risk of being caught making it all the more thrilling.

Your moans were as subdued as you could stand it, saliva slicking over his fingers as you suckled them and moved your tongue over the digits. All of a sudden, he pulled them out, his hand wrapping around your neck and causing you to stiffen at how firm his hold was, but not so firm that it was a problem. Any worries dissolved as he shoved his cock inside of you and kept it there, rubbing it slightly against your most sensitive of spots, and suddenly you felt everything overwhelm you as you came, mouth open in a silent scream.

Kimblee groaned behind you and dragged the nails of his free hand over your rear before giving it a rough smack as you rode out your orgasm, hips jolting and legs shaking, scarcely able to hole yourself up. “That can’t be all you’ve got in you…”

“No,” you croaked, almost desperately as your hands balled into fists, gasping as the hold on your neck tightened almost teasingly. “P-please, don’t st – “

Your please dissolved into a shaking, shrill gasp when he began to fuck you over again, your head craned back and your body trembling with sensitivity. At some point, you felt yourself squirt and you cried out against your hand which you clumsily slapped over your mouth beforehand, Kimblee huskily chastising as he smacked your rear again, gripping it tightly, “You’re making such a mess…”

The sun coming through the window warmed your bare skin, Kimblee’s breathing growing labored and hot as he pumped into you relentlessly. The hand on your rear went back to scratching at your back, the tingles of pain intermingling with pleasure and causing your arousal to spike. Everything was hot and damp and full of need, your body trembling with the effort of it all.

You felt yourself come again, and Kimblee gripped your throat, causing you to gasp for air as he came inside of you, cum slipping over your walls. He pulled out slightly before shoving back in and shooting a second load, staying there for some time before his grip loosened and his cock slipped out of you.

Spent, tired, and dripping of cum – both his and your own – you shakily rolled over on the desk to face the ceiling, a book jabbing into your arm, and yet you found you didn’t care all that much.

Your focus shifted to Kimblee’s heavy panting, forcing your head to move up and look over at him. His coat had been shrugged off his shoulders, hat miraculously still atop his head. His pants and briefs were around his ankles, you presumed, and his cock, still hard, was right there, front and center.

Face flushed and eyes half-lidded, Kimblee briefly removed his hat to run the opposite hand over his head, looking down at himself. “You made quite the mess, rookie… how’s about you come clean this up?”

 _Clean it up?_ Kimblee’s brows raised expectantly, appearing almost bored, and suddenly you put two and two together. Forcing yourself to sit up on the desk, you inhaled quietly as you felt his cum shift inside of you at the motion. Not trusting your legs, you simply inhaled and dropped down to the floor as carefully as you could, looking up just as Kimblee took a step forward and gripped your hair to pull your head up to face his dick.

It was slick with cum and your moisture, your hand shakily moving up to hold onto its base for purchase and brushing your lips over the head, heart thudding against your chest. With a shaking inhale, you slipped your tongue out of your mouth and ran it around the head in a circle, slowly dragging it over its length, but Kimblee obviously had other things in mind.

He pulled your head up again, your hold faltering, and nudged it against your lips again, pushing against them to egg you on. You opened your mouth to originally say something, but you never got the chance before he shoved his cock in your mouth, your hands fumbling to hold onto his legs for purchase as you moaned with surprise against it. He pulled it out and shoved it back down until you felt it in your throat, eyes bulged and watering with the intensity of it all.

Your nails dug into his thighs as he pulled back out, allowing you to breathe again. Looking back down at it, arousal flaring in your gut, you lowered yourself down on his length and began to bob back and forth against it, anxious to experience that feeling again. His hips lightly jutted to help encourage you to keep going, fingers tangled in your hair and occasionally tugging at it to arouse you more.

“You really are…” He took in a low breath, and when you looked up, his tongue was running over his lips, exhaling hotly before continuing, “a dog of the military, with how you’re groveling… What a pathetic little thing…”

Less than an hour before, you would have been angry, but now, you were just desperate to suck him, to taste him, to have him talk to you in literally any way possible. He could have called you scum and you would have been happy as long as he kept looking at you with that hungry expression.

You found yourself moaning against his cock as you fell into a rhythm, holding onto his legs tightly as you took in a deep breath and lowered down to his base before pulling back, and if his quiet groan was anything to go by, he seemed to enjoy it. A little too much, actually, because suddenly his hand was gripping your head and the other took on the task of pulling at your hair, shoving you down onto his length and rutting his hips into you just as he came. You let out a low, muffled cry against him as his cum shot down your throat, your body shaking and seemingly held up by his touch alone.

When he had finished and you desperately needed to breathe, he pulled out of you, cum still strung between your lips and his cock. Your tongue ran over your mouth to break it, slumping back until you were leaned against the table, breaths heavy and labored, underwear absolutely soaked through.

You scarcely registered when Kimblee pulled his underwear and pants back up, reaching down for his coat and tugging it onto his arms, smoothing down the wrinkles you had caused.

“Well then,” he said, and when you looked up, he was tipping his hat to you with a grin accompanied by leftover blush to his cheeks, “I suppose I’ll be calling a cab.”


	2. Briggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You're sent to Fort Briggs on a vague mission for guard duty and come across a familiar face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my kimblee fucker friends are the baby birds and i am the mother bird providing them with nutrients when no one else will

Was throwing rookies in shitty situations just Central’s new hobby?

A sneeze ripped through you, startling the soldier walking alongside you and causing him to glance over. Embarrassed, you pulled the collar of your uniform further up your neck and folded your arms tersely behind your back, forcing your posture to stay straight. Your jaw was tight, on the constant verge of beginning to shake and cause your teeth to clatter.

It was cold. Very cold. Not like you expecting anything otherwise, but going to the North wasn’t exactly on your bucket list – let alone to a place as intimidating as the Briggs Fort. And yet here you were, being ushered towards the fortress by no less than six men in heavy coats and snow gear. You were with a team of three other guards on mission to provide security for a major currently visiting the premises, and once again, you had been ushered out without being told who the hell you were supposed to protect. If you were, it had been said so briefly it flew over your head.

As you stepped towards the entrance, your head moved upward, continuing to do so until you felt the beginnings of a crick in the base of your neck. The fortress seemed to stretch upwards for what looked like miles, a smooth metal covering its surface and tinged with snow that would never melt away. You didn’t even realize you were gaping until one of the Briggs soldiers bumped you in the small of your back with the butt of their gun, startling you out of your stupor and making you stumble inside.

The doors were closed firmly behind the collective eight – you counted – of you, it was warmer inside, but not by much, and you only hoped it was just due to the fact that you were still on the ground floor. Two of the Briggs men announced that they would be letting the Major General know you were there, the remaining duo leading you and your group down the hallway. After a sharp right and a long walk through an empty, cold, metal walkway, you found yourselves at an elevator, the two ushering you all in before following you and jabbing a button inside.

As the doors closed and you began to ascend, you took a moment to make sure your posture was straight and your head was held high. Truth be told, you were more than relieved to be inside and out of that snow, your lungs slightly burning with every measured inhale. What you really needed was a cup of coffee and a second to sit down, but you were pretty sure if you blinked wrong, you’d be reprimanded here.

This wasn’t like Central; in more ways than one, you were a long way from home. Briggs was known for being strict and no-nonsense even moreso than the standard military branch you were accustomed to, and that thought alone made anxiety well in your gut. You had a feeling that relaxation wasn’t going to be in your future for some time.

The elevator doors opened, and in one single motion, your fellow soldiers and yourself stepped out in unison, being led down another long hallway. As predicted, it grew warmer the higher up one went within the fortress, it seemed. The two Briggs men stopped and held up their hands, making the four of you stop in your tracks. The tension was thick in the air, everyone’s shoulders collectively straightening.

“He’ll be with you in a minute,” one stiffly said. “He’s been recovering in our infirmary, so be patient and do as you’re told.” You were then ordered to stay there, and the two walked off down the hall and to the left, presumably to check on whoever it was. Briefly, you caught the eye of one of your comrades, who seemed just as out of place as you and as worried to boot.

 Not wanting to clog up the hall, you all stood at attention against the rightmost wall, arms tersely folded behind your backs. This is how you stayed for quite some time, the minutes on the metaphorical clock ticking by at a snail’s pace.

“Um,” one of the others spoke quietly, everyone turning to look at him, “what are we supposed to do, exactly? Did anyone actually tell any of you guys about who this person is?”

When he was met with no reply, his lips pressed into a firm line and he looked back ahead. You spoke up yourself to break the awkward silence, “I wasn’t told, either; I guess we’re just on guard duty for this major? It’s probably best if we just keep quiet and do our job – “

“Now there’s a voice I haven’t heard in a while.”

The sound sent a collective chill up everyone’s spines, but yours especially so, your mouth staying agape as you stood there, dumbfounded and unsure if you’d heard right. Against your better judgement, you leaned forward to get a better look at who was walking down the hallway.

He was there. White coat and a hat to match, a scarf draped leisurely over his shoulders – almost exactly like how you had last seen him. A multitude of emotions were surging through you, all negative, all apprehensive, and his ever-present smug grin in your general direction wasn’t helping. Closing your mouth, you hardened your expression and pressed your back against the wall once more.

Kimblee had been accompanied by a Briggs soldier with white hair tied up in a spiked pigtail, praying that neither him nor the alchemist could see how red your face was with embarrassment or how sweat was trickling down the side of your forehead as they stepped up.

Ignoring you, however, was not in the man's plans as he turned to you with a smile so falsely warm it was ice cold. Raising a hand to his hat, he tipped it in a gentlemanly fashion even if the motion sparked a memory that was anything but wholesome.

"We meet again," Kimblee greeted, all smiles and hospitality. "I suppose it really _is_ a small world." As his hand lowered, the soldier with him turned to you, eyes obscured by small, round goggles. A gulp slid down your throat, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact - as best as you could, anyway.

"Old friends?" he asked, not bothering to turn to Kimblee. Your lips pressed into a firm, almost irritated line as the alchemist replied nonchalantly, "Oh, you could say that. Why were so many guards sent for me? I have all the protection I need here with all of the Major General’s soldiers around the place."

The sarcasm was barely present in the lilt of Kimblee's tone, gloved hands shifting downward to rest in his coat pockets. The soldier replied after a beat of silence, "We were only informed that bodyguards were coming for you. Maybe you should ask _them_ that instead."

They maintained eye contact for a brief few seconds, the tension in the air letting up when Kimblee looked away, though it came back full force when the alchemist’s gaze unfortunately landed on you. "I don't need an entire ensemble to get around Briggs; three of them can be on standby while one stays with me," he mused, still not taking your eyes off of you. Much to your chagrin, you couldn't hold it anymore and cast your gaze down to the ground. His quiet chuckle made you want to scowl, but you swallowed it back down and took in a quiet, but deep breath, ignoring the pain it brought to your lungs.

"You need an escort from here for your safety," said the man beside him, firmer than it was likely meant to sound. Kimblee nonchalantly turned back to him and stared at the man lazily for a few seconds, then replied in an equally nonchalant tone, "You must have misheard me - either that, or you're stubborn and don't understand your place. General Raven is dead, Major; I operate on my own terms now, which currently are to have this fine young lady be my personal bodyguard. Am I clear?"

If the major replied, you didn’t hear it. Blood was ringing in your ears, your clasped hands behind your back trembling with a fervor you hadn't experienced since your last encounter with this bastard.

“It’s funny,” the major quipped, causing you to glance back up only to find him turning to presumably leave. “I thought you told me you prefer to move alone.”

“People change, Major,” replied Kimblee, the man removing a hand from his coat pocket to tip his hat at the soldier. “Off you go, now.”

Not a word was said as the man walked down the hallway, steps measured. Kimblee cleared his throat, everyone turning to look at him, and he gestured with his head for your comrades to follow. Helpless, you watched as they all stepped away from the wall and past you, walking in the same direction the major had gone and leaving the two of you alone. Great.

“Well now,” he said as he gave you another fake smile, “that’s better. I never thought I’d see you again, let alone in Briggs of all places. You’re not exactly the kind of person I can see working up here.”

That condescending tone made your teeth grit, swallowing down any urge to reply informally and instead speaking as evenly as you could, “I was sent up here on guard duty, sir. It was out of my hands, and coming across you again is merely a coincidence.”

A sigh far too loud to be genuine escaped the man, his shoulders moving upwards in a lackadaisical shrug. He turned and began walking, you forcing your feet to move forward until you walked alongside him at attention. Just being near him was making your blood boil and your embarrassment rise, praying that the tinge to your cheeks could be passed off as a reaction to the cold. “Sir,” you spoke up, the man not even so much as looking at you, “I request permission to speak freely.”

Your molars ached as you clenched your jaw even more tightly, the man holding a hand to his chin in feigned thought, glancing up towards the ceiling. “Hmm…” With another shrug, he lowered his arm once more. “Granted.”

There was a lot you could say, and a lot of things you wanted to say, but your job risked being on the line again if you let this creep get the best of you. Letting out a pent-up breath, you only asked, “I would request our previous… _interaction_ not be mentioned while I’m temporarily guarding you here. Please forget about it. That is all.”

Kimblee, to your surprise, only laughed – a raucous sound that sounded far too booming for his otherwise suave and gentlemanly frame. He stopped walking, looking over and down at you – God, you hated that he was taller than you – with a toothy grin, his dull blue eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement.

“That’s really all you had to say to me? Out of everything you obviously want to say, all you want is for me to forget that little thing? You really are a stubborn one.” With a scoff, he continued to walk, chuckling all the way and forcing you to break out of your daze to keep up with him. “Listen, rookie; I’m not one to just ‘forget’ about things, nor am I one to shun the past because of what others deem as mistakes. Your request is simply impossible, but good job wasting your chance to speak.”

Your fists clenched behind your back, speaking against your better judgement when you knew perfectly well that staying quiet was the only way to win with this guy, “It was a mistake I don’t wish to dwell on, sir. I see no reason in doing so.”

“Every event has its purpose,” he replied before you could form your next sentence, a hand raised to gesture in the air as he spoke. “Be they major or minor, a war or a scuffle in the street, a long-lasting romance or a fling in a library. I’m a man who treasures the memories he keeps; you could call me soft, but I like to think of it as keeping information in check. That afternoon was not one I could forget even if I wanted to, rookie. Especially not with how memorable that face of yours is.”

Your lips pursed, unsure if you were supposed to feel flattered or disgusted. Choosing not to reply, you only kept walking, matching his pace as you turned a corner and passed a guard, praying they hadn’t overheard what he had said.

“Talk,” Kimblee suddenly ordered, the firmness to his tone startling you and causing you to physically start a bit where you stood, pace faltering. “Your silence is grating on my ears.”

Despite such a statement not making any sense, you hastily stammered a reply, “I’m not sure what you want me to say, sir. My request was denied, and I have nothing more to say to you.”

“You are so unbelievably boring,” the alchemist quipped, stuffing his hand back in his coat pocket. “Nobody’s listening, and it’s not as if I would let you get demoted for talking out of line.”

Your silence was steadfast – that was, until you processed what he had said. Blinking hard, your brows creased slightly as you turned your head to look at him and asked, “… Why?”

Without missing a beat, the man replied nonchalantly, “Because you’re too fun to play with.”

His tone had held no emotion, nor inflections of any sort, and yet you felt the heat on your cheeks spread further down your face. This alone only served to irritate you, shaking your head a bit to try and will it away. Kimblee glanced over at you at the motion with a raised brow, and you prayed he would keep his trap shut.

But Solf J. Kimblee was not the kind of person who kept his trap shut.

“So easily flustered; how have you survived in the military this long?” he teased, chuckling again – though this time it sounded more akin to a light snicker. “Being loyal is useful and all, but it can also be your hubris. Loyalty comes in handy to those higher up, but even to a humble little alchemist like me, you’re just as dedicated.”

“It’s my job, sir,” you stiffly replied. “And you’re scarcely humble, if I may. You have many titles under your belt – plenty enough to warrant a dedicated array of bodyguards and soldiers.”

Kimblee held a hand to his chest, scoffing and peering over at you from under the brim of his hat. “Oh, you flatter me. But I wasn’t speaking on a professional level; I meant personal. I know you won’t leave my side, which is why I picked you specifically.”

You forced yourself to not roll your eyes, instead replying, “I’m not sure I understand, sir.”

“You won’t leave me because you like being around me; you _like_ that irritation you experience when we’re together. The fact that you can’t do anything about it just eats you up from the inside, forcing yourself to default to ‘sir’ this and ‘sir’ that. I’m the only person who will test those limits.” You could almost hear the condescending grin in his words as he continued, “And I’m the only one who knows just how to get under your skin…”

A jolt ran over you, causing you to gasp and visibly start when you felt something tap against the small of your back – a simple, quick motion that felt like a surge of electricity had moved through your entire body. As you forced yourself to regain your composure, Kimblee only added nonchalantly, “In more ways than one.”

The man seemed surprised when you turned to look at him, his hand stalled in midair. Your brows were tightly knit, fists clenched, and lips pursed so tightly they shook. You probably looked like you were about to punch him, and God if you only could. The only thing offsetting your anger was the pink tinge to your cheeks, and much to your disdain, Kimblee’s surprised expression turned casual again at the sight, smile spreading over his face. “Well, isn’t that just adorable.”

Your voice wavered slightly as you spoke as firmly as you could manage, “I requested that you not refer to that afternoon, sir.”

“And I denied that request,” he replied calmly. “You really are a slow one sometimes.”

“We’re never going to get anywhere if you insist on distracting me, sir.”

“Whoever said I had somewhere to go?”

Your eyes met, yours narrow and his relaxed. Finally, he snickered under his breath and tucked his hand back into his coat pocket as he remarked, “Ah, memories. That hard shell of yours isn’t so hard to crack, but it’s so fun seeing you try so hard to maintain it.”

You inhaled to reply with something, anything, but your mouth closed at the sound of footsteps coming from further down the hall and around the corner. A voice accompanied it, the sound making your blood run cold. It was female, and you had a pretty good idea of who it was.

Looking around, you found a door a few feet down the hall, your hand reaching out before you could realize it to grip Kimblee’s arm and tug it forward. It caught him off guard, the man stumbling a bit as you tugged him forward and to the door, opening it and pushing him inside before following him and closing it behind you. Your hand fumbled for a lock, clicking it. Your breaths were shaking and heavy with your palms pressed against the cold metal of the door, closing your eyes to take in a particularly long inhale.

“That was a bit of an overreaction.”

As if you had forgotten he was there, you started and your eyes popped open, looking over your shoulder in the darkness of the room and squinting. The two of you appeared to be in a supply closet of sorts, Kimblee’s hat askew due to having knocked it back against something on a topmost shelf. You turned around with your back to the door, frowning deeply despite him likely being unable to even see it. “It was the Major General!” you whispered. “Seeing a state alchemist flirting with a subordinate would land both of us in hot water!”

“Flirting?” Kimblee repeated, fabric shifting as he tucked his hands in his pockets. “Oh, you are _such_ a predictable little creature.”

Heat spread from your face to your ears, biting down hard on the inside of your cheek to suppress a noise of annoyance. Fumbling through the dark, you made your way against the wall until you were against one of them, buckets of what you assumed were paint to your left near the corner where the main shelf resided. “I’m only requesting that we stay here until the Major General leaves, sir,” you whispered. “I’m sure neither of us want to be questioned.”

Kimblee inhaled to speak, but you found yourself shushing him as the sound of footsteps passed the outside of the room, holding your breath and staying as still as you possibly could as they passed… and then stopped. The Major General was speaking with someone near the supply closet, and rather hotheadedly at that, even if you couldn’t make out what she was saying.

“This is a predicament,” Kimblee suddenly quipped, causing you to start and force down a gasp. When had he moved so close? Well, he was close to begin with, with how cramped the closet was, but his voice was nearly at your ear. At the sound of a quiet exhale, you felt something warm brush over your ear in the darkness, a shudder running over your body that was thankfully left unseen. “Guess she’s not leaving anytime soon…”

“All th-the more reason to stay quiet!” you harshly whispered back, mentally kicking yourself for the audible stammer in your tone. He was just close so you could hear him; that was all…

“Hm,” was his only reply, and you felt fabric shift as he presumably adjusted his posture. You could only hear your own breaths, and if you focused, you could hear Kimblee’s as well. They were soft, almost nonexistent, even in the silence of the room. Your heart was beating hard in your chest for a multitude of reasons now, letting out a shaking, quiet exhale to try and regulate your anxiety.

The voices continued outside, growing distant for a few steps before stopping again and continuing. “I like to think of myself as a patient man,” Kimblee mused under his breath, “but you’re testing it.”

“M-me?” you stammered as quietly as you could manage. “Or do you mean the Major General – “

Fabric shifted, and suddenly something moved over your mouth: a palm of a hand, which luckily caught the gasp that escaped you. The mere motion caused a memory to flash in the back of your mind, a throb of dulled arousal replacing where fear should have been. Another shaking inhale was heard when you felt something slide around your waist, the man’s opposite hand resting over the small of your back, and suddenly that all-too-familiar scent of far too much breath spray tickled at your nose – alongside a stray strand of hair peeking out from his widow’s peak.

“Not a single hint of resistance,” Kimblee breathed, the husky gravel to his voice only amplified by the low volume. You could hear the smile in his voice as he teased against your lips, “If this is all it takes for a military’s dog to roll over, I’d be doing it more often.”

He was messing with you, and you refused to let him have the upper ground. You tried to say something against his palm, but it was lowered and promptly replaced with his lips. Your head and back were against the wall, his kisses hard and matter-of-fact in their movements.

You were irritated, worried, afraid of being caught, but the rush of it all, the memory of your last encounter happening all over again, and his hand on your back were causing all of it to amplify your arousal. It was as if it had been lying dormant for so very long only to come forward all at once, your hands instinctively moving to drape over his shoulders and grip his back tightly.

Teeth grazed against your bottom lip, biting down and eliciting a hot breath from you before he kissed you again, tongue slipping past your teeth and along your own. Kimblee had such a unique way of kissing unlike anyone else you had ever locked lips with; he was dominating and determined, as if making sure you knew that for however long this lasted, you were his, and he would make that known.

His free hand found your hair, taking hold of your scalp and gripping it tightly to keep you in place, a quiet and shaking moan releasing into his mouth. Your heart was beating erratically in your chest, taking note of the voices outside and wondering what would happen if someone opened the door and saw the two of you… or how Kimblee would react.

The hand on your back moved down and slid up the bottom of your shirts until his cool fingers slid over your bare skin, causing you to shudder. The fact that you couldn’t see him was driving you mad, because you couldn’t predict what he might do to you next. At another suckle at your lip, he pulled away with a soft _pop_ , forehead against yours and tongue snaking teasingly over your lips.

“You,” he breathed, nails digging into your back and making you bite down on your cheek to swallow down a moan, “Are just so very fun to toy with…” A single nail dragged down your back, spine arching a bit at the motion as you shakily inhaled. His voice was back towards your ear again as he continued to speak as quietly as he could, “I want to see every inch of you… I want to see what drives you mad, what makes you lose yourself… those carnal reactions and desires you’re too prudish to ever let anyone see...”

You couldn’t suppress the soft, shaking gasp at the feeling of teeth against your earlobe, the man sucking at it before trailing back down along your jaw, neck craning to give him better access. “I want you and everyone else to know by the end of the day that you’re _mine…”_

His hand moved from your head over to your face, pulling it down a bit roughly so he could reach your lips once more and kiss you so hard you could scarcely breathe. Fingers trailing downward, you initially assumed he would go for your chest, but his hand kept moving further and further down until it breached the hem of your pants, you gasping against his fervent, deep kisses. His digits found your vulva, rubbing his palm against it before running a finger agonizingly slowly over your most private of areas, already moist with excitement.

“So excited,” he murmured, followed by a rumbling chuckle. The hand on your back slid out of your shirt, causing your pulse to falter with uncertainty, for you knew not where it would go next. A palm was placed against your mouth again just as his middle finger pressed down on your clit and caused you to moan shakily into his hand, the alchemist murmuring, “Be quiet…”

Your legs twitched as he rubbed you in circles, fingers cool against the hot, wet surface of your clit, moisture leaking onto his hand as you braced yourself with his shoulders. Your tongue slid out of your mouth against his hand, desperate for a taste of his skin again, though Kimblee only chuckled, voice by your ear again. His lips found your earlobe again, wrapping around it and nipping at it with his teeth.

The footsteps outside had long since left, but you still felt an urge to stay as quiet as possible in the event someone else walked by. This was easier said than done when you could hardly keep yourself standing and his finger was rubbing at your clit hard and fast and your ear was in his mouth. He had been forward last time, but not like this – not desperate and hungry to get his hands on you and his tongue in your mouth.

His finger slipped downward to glide with ease into your walls, followed by a second one as he slid them in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. You scarcely noticed when his mouth moved down to your neck and he sucked at the skin there, hard enough to make your moan into his palm quaver and trail off.

You had soaked through your underwear at that point, a third finger joining the other two and making your legs shake with fervor. All you could do was stand there against the wall and stay upright, savoring the heightened senses in the darkness and how every move he made sent a jolt through your body. Back arching again as Kimblee fucked you with his fingers, you rutted your hips into his hand, a pleasure building in your gut and nearing a sudden climax –

Everything stopped. All of a sudden, you tensed, worried that someone may have heard you and that you were too lost in yourself to notice. Kimblee pulled away from you, fingers slipping out of your pants, and was silent for a few agonizingly long seconds.

Then the door’s lock clicked, you gasping and fumbling down your front despite none of your clothes being askew, and it swung open, the light causing you to squint.

Once you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of Kimblee, whom had been the one to open the door. He was running his tongue over his fingers, licking them of the wet substance they were drenched in, and licked his lips before speaking far too casually, “People will start getting suspicious if I’m not seen in the fort for too long. Come on.”

You were coming down from the high of being edged so harshly, palms against the wall of the room as you panted, and all the man could do was raise his brows at you and jut towards the open door with his chin before heading out, all nonchalance. Forcing your legs to move, you stumbled out, standing awkwardly in the hallway as Kimblee closed the door behind you.

His hands hit your shoulders, causing you to start, but he was only trying to straighten your posture, it seemed. The man released you, observing your face briefly and extending a hand to swoop your bangs over to the right side before nodding. “Better. You should probably start walking.”

With that, he began to walk, you stumbling a bit and following him, your body feeling as if it were on autopilot. You managed to speak, “S-sir… no, actually, Kimblee, what the _hell_ was that?? Why would you just – “

“Weren’t _you_ the one who was worried about being heard?” he asked, peering down at you with a raised brow. “I’d suggest you go back to your normal militaristic self until I tell you otherwise.”

He went quiet after that, and so did you, trying to focus on making sure your steps were even and measured rather than the way he occasionally peered over at you from under the brim of his hat or how there was the slightest tinge of blush on his pale cheeks.

Walking wasn’t exactly helping things, whatwith your underwear being drenched and arousal still spiked between your legs, and Kimblee obviously knew it. He was as casual as he could be, beginning to hum as he walked to an elevator and lead you inside, pushing the button once he joined you. Where there was no elevator music, his ability to carry a tune surprisingly well replaced the silence.

“Where… are we going, exactly?” you asked, your voice breathier than you intended, swallowing hard. Kimblee only glanced at you from under the brim of his hat with a small, cheeky grin, followed by a chuckle as the doors opened.

“Oh… I’m sure you can come up with a few ideas.”

He stepped out, you obediently following him. Your shoulders tensed as a guard walked past the two of you, incredibly self-aware of yourself despite not seeming outwardly suspicious at all. Kimblee stopped the next one that walked by, telling them, “If someone asks where I am, do tell them I’m in my guest room. I’m still recovering and need some more rest.”

The guard obviously did not want to carry such a task, but the alchemist was nonchalant as he led you further into the fort, you scarcely registering it due to how much your mind was wandering at such a comment.

Kimblee eventually stopped before a door, holding it open for you and letting you inside. It was a very basic and quaint room with a simple bed, a nightstand beside it with a lamp. A small heater was against the opposite wall near a two-person table and only one chair. At a clap and a flash of light, you started and turned around to find him rising up from the floor. The bottom of the door had been merged with the ground, the man raising a hand to take off his hat as he turned to face you with a casual smile. “There; now we don’t have to worry about being quiet anymore.”

As he stepped over to the table to place his hat down, you stepped further inside and gulped, asking, “I… This is the worst time to ask something like this, but… I guess I’m just wondering why you’re even bothering with someone like me. I’m not exactly anything special – “

“Do you think I care about something like that?” he interrupted, tugging his scarf off and folding it to rest it on the table beside his hat. “Looks? Personality? Your long-winded tragic backstory?” His arms shifted out of the sleeves of his coat, stepping over to the wall and hanging it up on a rack.

As he undid the buttons on his vest and shrugged it off, your brows creased a bit in confusion, but he only turned to look at you with a near apathetic gaze in his button down, tie, and trousers. He stepped forward, and you instinctively took a step back, heel knocking against the back of the bed. Kimblee stopped before you, hands moving up to gesture as he continued to speak.

“I don’t _care_ about any of that. Simply put, who you _are_ doesn’t matter to me and most likely never will.  What I do care about is seeing you and missing out on what I wasn’t able to experience in our last encounter.” Arms dropping to his sides, he huffed quietly and continued, “I want to _see_ you. I want to see every inch of you laid bare, I want to see what makes you _tick_ , what causes your mouth to open in a silent scream, helpless against what I do as I take _every_ part of you for _myself_.”

His hand reached upward to grip your chin much as he had the first time you found yourself in this situation with him, causing you to gasp and instinctively purse your lips, expecting a sudden kiss. Your reaction seemed to amuse the man, and he only released you with a scoff before pressing both hands against your chest and shoving you backwards.

A yell of fear escaped you as you fell back, caught by the somewhat hard springiness of the bed behind you, the wind knocked out of your lungs. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you looked up at him to find him staring directly down at you, hands at work to undo his belt rather tersely and yank it out of its holders to toss aside. The metal of his belt buckle clacked against the cold stone floor when it made contact, the man rolling his shoulders and moving to crawl forward on the bed.

Last time, you hadn’t been able to see him when he was like this, the sight taking your breath away. Kimblee never broke eye contact as he made his way onto the bed and on top of you, your breaths catching at the sight. However, he stopped just as he was fully on top of you and moved back to sit, taking your arms in his hands and moving them upward until your wrists knocked against the headboard.

A flash of light was seen and you felt something move over them, Kimblee removing his hands. Yours were restrained all of a sudden, your neck craning upward to look. The wood of the headboard had been expanded until it restrained your wrists, your arms scarcely being able to move. Kimblee very calmly scooted backwards and raised your legs, taking hold of your own belt and undoing it swiftly before tugging down your pants.

Realization hit you, and at a loss of how to react, you gave a nervous, flustered laugh, only able to watch as this man who had been haunting your memory and your fantasies for so long was before you again, tugging your pants off and tossing your shoes off alongside them as if it were the most casual thing in the world. You felt your core throb when he looked down at you, letting out a hum and hooking his fingers around the hem of your underwear to tug them downward. “My, my…”

Head turning to the side out of instinct, your cheeks were aflame with blush. Your underwear were tugged down your legs, leaving you bare from the hips down and leaving Kimblee with all the room in the world to trail his slender fingers down your thighs as if you were made of porcelain.

You felt him shift again, his hands spreading your legs and causing you to make a small, flustered noise in response before they shifted back downward until they rested over your rear. You gasped as your hips were pushed upward for him to hold you properly, and when you forced yourself to look down, you squeaked. Kimblee was between your legs, face so tantalizing close to your pussy and his hands on your rear. This was happening, it was –

Kimblee didn’t waste the dead air with small talk. All of a sudden his lips were on your vulva, pressing a hard kiss to it before parting it with his tongue and sliding it over you, letting out a pleased hum against the skin. A shrill gasp escaped you, arms tensing to move only to be restrained against the headboard still. His movements were slow, but rough, kissing and licking your most sensitive of areas while his hands gripped at your rear possessively.

The alchemist’s tongue slid upward and over your clit, causing it to twitch with arousal. He licked over you and wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, giving it a suckle and causing you to moan at full volume for the first time around him. Kimblee hummed again, pulling away to kiss it before remarking lowly, “What a wonderful sound… I want to hear more of it…”

His tongue flattened and pressed down against your clit, hands massaging and gripping at your rear all the while as little noises of pleasure escaped you, your legs raising and wrapping around his shoulders to pull him in closer to you, effectively holding him in place. Kimblee continued his assault on your drenched, quavering pussy, a shrill and whimpering moan passing your lips when you felt his teeth nip at your clit followed by a hard suck.

Your back was arched against the mattress as best as you could manage, Kimblee pulling your hips up a bit moreso for better access. His lips were wet and warm against the surface of your pussy, biting softly down on your labia and suckling at it. A low moan of his own was heard echoing your own, his movements fervent and determined.

“Please,” you heard yourself gasping, then letting out a breathy, loud moan as he nipped and sucked at your clit once more, humming against you with every cry and moan you released. Though you never followed up with your request, Kimblee seemed to understand, licking up your moisture as soon as it trickled out and smearing it over your pussy with his tongue.

Pleasure was building again, a whimper trickling out from your throat as he sucked hard at your clit and nipped it, tongue flicking over it, which was all you needed to release. Your legs held him tightly in place as your felt yourself come, Kimblee holding you firmly to his face to hungrily lick up every drop of you. He stuffed his tongue into your opening in the midst of your orgasm and elicited a cry of delight, fucking you with his tongue until you came down from the high.

Breaths erratic and labored, your legs lost their strength as they twitched and your clit bounced with sensitivity, Kimblee pulling out of you to suckle gently at the sensitive bud and run his tongue over it once more before coming up for air, meeting your eye as he licked his lips.

You were lowered down onto the mattress once more as he sat up on his knees, hand running over your engorged, plush pussy and sliding a finger into you without warning, your hips bucking at the motion as he shoved it in and out.

The low, husky tone to his voice made your walls pulse against him, a second finger slipping inside as he remarked, “I wonder how many orgasms you can fit in there…”

His fingers stayed in place as he moved up and on top of you again, free hand gripping your uniform’s top as a red light spread from his fingers. You squinted your eyes shut, and when they opened, your clothes were completely gone. There was no time to wonder how he did that without a transmutation circle before he was gripping the back of your head and his lips were on your neck, sinking his teeth into the skin and making you cry out with delight.

All the while, his fingers pumped into you at a steady, determined pace, kissing hungrily at your neck and sucking hard at the skin, surely to leave hickeys by the time he was done. You were helpless against his touch, your only ability being that of moaning and whimpering with pleasure as it surged through your body like fire, every inch of you sensitive and desperate for more.

Hips rutting upwards of their own volition against his fingers, you cried out Kimblee’s name and caused him to moan lowly against your neck, teeth digging in so deeply it felt as if they would pierce skin. At a dull throb of pain, you supposed he had, his tongue sensuously dragging over the wound and suckling at it before moving elsewhere down your shoulder.

After a few seconds of this, he pulled back and slipped his fingers out of you, hips dropping back down to the mattress. His fingers fumbled to undo the buttons of his shirt, though he seemed too impatient and moved for the tent in his pants, undoing the zipper and tugging his underwear down for his cock to slip out, visibly twitching with need.

You had never seen the man like this, not even in your own fantasies. He seemed almost crazed in a way, looking down at you like a predator would to prey and running his tongue over his lips before gripping your legs and spreading them further.

There was no teasing and no warning before his dick slid into your walls, ready and willing for him. Kimblee let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, leaning back down over you and engulfing you in his shadow to stare down at your own eyes, his half-lidded and lustful.

He pulled out and shoved back inside of you, a groan coming from you in response, his pace quickening and only earning more moans and quavering breaths.

“More,” he breathed hotly against your lips, taking hold of one and biting it, tugging it towards himself with a suck before letting go. “I want to hear you scream, rookie… You’re like music to my ears…”

His cock shoved into you, plugging you with its width and causing you to moan shrilly, his mouth stretching into a wide grin. “That’s it…”

Wetness leaked down your pelvis, his dick soaked with your moisture and your clit rubbing up against the shaft with every entry and exit he gave. Kimblee kept staring at you, gauging your reactions and the way your emotions shifted with every level of pleasure he hit. A particular loud moan escaped you as you felt yourself ride out the second orgasm of the evening, walls clenching tightly around his cock.

This pushed him over the edge, his eyes clenching shut with a deep, low moan as he pushed as deep into your pussy as he could go, cum slipping over your walls. He pulled back and shoved back inside of you to shoot a second load, making you squeak.

Slowly, Kimblee pulled out of you, panting and out of breath. One of his hands fumbled to take hold of your chin, gripping it tightly and staring down as you intently, breaths hot against your nose. He ran his tongue shakily over his lips, grinning madly down at you, and breathed,

“I’m nowhere near done with you yet…”


End file.
